


May the Moonlight Guide You Safely Home

by ReLessThan1



Category: ANBU Legacy, Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Werewolf, Modern fantasy setting, Werewolves, look...................i might be a furry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-22
Updated: 2019-02-27
Packaged: 2019-09-24 15:00:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17102786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ReLessThan1/pseuds/ReLessThan1
Summary: Basically - if ANBU teams were werewolf packs.  Supernatural themes abound!





	1. Ryouma's No Good Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [saunterleftside](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saunterleftside/gifts), [Nezuko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nezuko/gifts), [aubreyli](https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubreyli/gifts), [Kilerkki](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kilerkki/gifts).



> I have no explanation for this. Merry Christmas to my favorite authors<3

The clock strikes two A.M. - Ryouma packs up from his job as a bartender at the local dive.  He hates it only slightly less than his day job as a waiter at the Konoha diner, and at least he can use his movie-star looks and perfect aural recall to get good tips.

At this hour of the night, he’s walking to a place where the streets are dark and it smells of blood and rust.  Here, in an alleyway in the red light district, he can forget everything but punching his opponent into the dirt for a little while.  He firmly secures his duffel across his body and approaches the fence to cheer on the two men sparring in the basketball court that moonlights as a martial arts ring with the rest of the onlookers.

The woman standing next to him claps him on the shoulder and grins. It isn’t a particularly nice smile, but those who show up to bet on street fights aren’t particularly nice people.  “Five bucks on Akiyama? He’s four-and-oh, tonight.”

Ryouma would have pegged her as a young boy, looking from behind, but the hot pink strap of a sports bra peeks out from the collar of a loose tee.  He smiles back at her, flashing white teeth, and says, “I dunno, I kinda like to root for the underdog.”

“You seem like my kind of guy, then.  I’ll be sure to put my money on you.” She holds out a hand.  “I’m Katsuko.”

“Ryouma,” he replies, and shakes it.  The lack of a family name is no surprise, here.  “I appreciate the vote of confidence. I have won before, y’know.”

Katsuko opens her mouth to riposte, but her attention is snared by the action in the ring.  Akiyama is moving faster than Ryouma has seen any human move, but only enough to be unusual.  So he’s fast - Ryouma can be fast too.

Then, Akiyama catches the other guy square in the face.  It’s a knockout. Ryouma winces sympathetically, as he’s had to reset his own broken nose before.  Akiyama is dusting himself off, with a few audience members helping the other man back over the fence and nursing his bloody nose.

“I’d better go pay up.” Katsuko grimaces and fishes out her wallet as she jogs to the other side of the ring.  She calls back, “You’d better win this time, Mr. Underdog!”

“Don’t worry, I will.” Ryouma waves her off, drops his duffel, and climbs the fence to join Akiyama in the ring.  A new round of jeers rises from the crowd and Ryouma bows theatrically.

He’s barely upright before he has to dodge the first punch, and Akiyama is already pressing his advantage.  He gets a few good hits in on Ryouma’s forearms and one on his stomach before Ryouma counters with a solid right hook that snaps Akiyama’s head around, drops him to the ground, and splits Ryouma’s knuckles on his unusually sharp teeth.

Ryouma is about to go for a pin.  That hook should have kept a man of Akiyama’s size down for a second or two, but Akiyama rolls over and knocks Ryouma in the temple with a punch that has him seeing stars, then pavement.

When he comes to, Akiyama is shaking him roughly. “-on man, we gotta get out of here.  Neighbor called the cops on us.”

“Shit, need to get my duffel.”  Ryouma pushes the other man away and staggers to his feet.  He blinks until his vision is treading water instead of swimming, and scrambles over the fence to grab his bag.

Akiyama tugs on his sleeve.  “This way. The forest isn’t far from here and I know a shortcut.”

Ryouma fastens his duffel around his shoulders and runs after Akiyama as fast as his legs will carry him.  Blood pounds in his veins, and thoughts of concussions and brain bleed crowd out everything else to the point that he barely notices when the foliage thickens and blots out the gibbous moon.

Ryouma definitely notices the branch that clotheslines him and the body that pins him to the ground.  “The fuck-” he wheezes, then looks up.

It’s Akiyama, but he doesn’t look worried or scared, just grimly triumphant, lips pulled back to show his teeth.

Ryouma bridges and bucks his hips.  “C’mon, man, let me up! We got away, so I’ve gotta get back to my place and-”

“I can’t let you go blabbing,” Akiyama interrupts. The light of the almost-full moon catches in his eyes, and Ryouma’s breath sticks in his throat.  Through the haze of his concussion, he realizes just how much he fucked up. Akiyama leans down to bite Ryouma’s neck.

The world blurs.  Ryouma rolls to his hands and knees, coughing, as snarling fills the air.  When he finds the source of the sound, there are two wolves wrestling on the ground, one a tarnished light gray and the other so dark it’s almost black.  
  
Ryouma bolts to his feet while the wolves fight, gripping his bag like his life depended on it.  (And it kind of does, his phone, wallet, apartment keys, and waitstaff uniform are in there.) His throat and knuckles feel like they’re on fire - infection, the little first aid knowledge he has informs him - the pain spreading around his body the faster he runs.  Dammit, he can’t afford this!  
  
He collapses to his knees at the edge of the forest, gasping, and the trees shiver into and out of color.  Panic climbs up his throat, sending his thoughts and the pain into overdrive.  
  
Ryouma’s vision narrows down to a tiny pinpoint.  He sees a gore-coated muzzle coming closer. With the certainty of a man heading to the gallows, he knows he’s going to be eaten. He’s barely twenty, but that’s enough life for someone of his caliber - _stupid, rotten, useless_ \- to have lived.

* * *

Ryouma wakes up feeling extremely disoriented, missing half his color vision, and extremely hungry.  His head feels like someone drove a railroad tie through it when he tries to lift it, but feels way clearer than it should for someone who ought to be concussed.

He rolls his head across the gravelly floor and blinks as a gray wolf with a bloody muzzle comes into view.

“Are you going to eat me?” Ryouma tries to ask it, but it just comes out as a pitiful whine.  
  
The wolf snorts and flicks its tail at him, then nudges over a hunk of still-warm venison. “Eat.”  
  
Ryouma doesn’t know how he understood that, but the warm deer carcass looks surprisingly appetizing. He levers himself up onto his...paws.  Those are definitely paws.  
  
He’s so hungry that he deliberately decides to think about everything _later_ and snarfs down the rest of the deer while the other wolf watches the cave entrance.  
  
Ryouma licks his chops and considers the possibilities.

He dabbled in necromancy when he was a desperate teenager who just wanted his parents back, but only managed to rot the rats that got caught in the orphanage’s traps instead of revive them during practice runs.  Werewolves had hovered on the periphery, but they, and other magical folk, had always seemed to elude him. Magic exists, but he’s just too stupid to use it.

The other possibility is that this is a very strange and elaborate near-death experience.

He takes a deep breath and considers his life as a wolf now. Fuck it, it’ll probably be better than working two shitty jobs anyways.

Suddenly, the tawny gray wolf gets up, ears flicked forward, and starts walking deeper into the woods.  When Ryouma doesn’t immediately follow, it growls at him, then starts walking again. Ryouma hastily but gently picks up his duffel bag between his teeth and follows it.  
  
Ryouma starts to complain about his paws hurting, which comes out as a series of whimpers, when the two of them find a modest log cabin.  The other wolf yips, short and sharp, then vanishes behind a bush. Before Ryouma can question anything, the cabin’s door opens, revealing a middle aged woman with a scarred face and graying hair, who looks at Ryouma with a knowing gaze.  
  
She turns those hawk-like eyes on the bush.  “Hatake, what is this?”  
  
The other wolf- Hatake, apparently- slinks back out from its hiding place. It looks the woman in the eye, then back towards town, and growls, flicking its tail with clear irritation.  
  
Ryouma looks between them, the only one confused by what’s going on. A high pitched whine escapes his throat. Normally he’s better at hiding his feelings, but it’s so much, the fear almost all-consuming.  
  
He’s stumbled into something big, hasn’t he.  
  
The woman looks towards town, anger flashing in her eyes. “Stay, Hatake. We’re going to _talk_ , when I’m done with this one.” But then she looks back at Ryouma, and the anger resolves into something warmer.

“Come inside.” She extends her hand, politely, and Ryouma slinks forward, duffel still clenched between his teeth, to sniff at her. It smells like wood and ink, nothing malicious. He tips his ears back and follows her inside.  
  
The cabin is small, but well furnished, the furniture well-used, but also well cared for. Ryouma sets his duffel down on the rug by the wicker couch, and gingerly lowers himself to the floor. Hatake has followed them inside, as well, and prowls the front entryway, looking like he (Ryouma is sure it’s he, but he can’t say how he knows), would rather be anywhere else.  
  
The woman turns to address Ryouma, arms crossed. “Right. This would be much easier if you were human. You don’t smell hungry, so I assume you ate recently.”  
  
Ryouma must be making a funny face, because she smiles at him. “I want you to think about your human form, and breathe deeply, okay? Try to focus on lowering your heart rate.”  
  
Easier said than done, but Ryouma is willing to try anything, at this point.  
  
Ryouma places his head on his front paws and takes slow breaths, almost like he’s trying to go to sleep. He thinks about having hands, and standing upright, and human things. After a minute or two, he feels the fur of the shag carpet on his skin, the draft coming through the cracked open window, and when he opens his eyes, he can see color.  
  
He levers himself up to a sitting position, sees that the cut across his knuckles has healed to a pale scar, and says, “What the fuck?”  
  
The woman hands him an XXL tee-shirt and Ryouma realizes that he’s completely naked, nipple ring and all.  He hastily pulls the shirt on, not because he’s modest, but because this moment probably requires him to be somewhat decent. “So...what’s going on here?”  
  
“I am Sagara Okiku, Director of Lupine Operations here in Fire Country. You, sir, are a werewolf. Congratulations. That means we have some rules and regulations to go over before I can release you back into the wild.”  
  
“Oh, okay,” Ryouma says, like that’s completely reasonable. “So that man who bit me- Akiyama- he-“  
  
“Was also a werewolf, yes.” Sagara drums her fingertips on her bicep. “And breaking the law by biting you. I assume you took care of it, Hatake?”  
  
The other wolf snorts, but yips softly. He still very much looks like he doesn’t want to be here.  
  
Sagara nods, then focuses her attention back on Ryouma. “I see you have a duffel bag with you. If you have ID, that will make this much quicker. There are forms to fill out before I can let you go. Unregistered werewolves are also occupying our territory illegally, just so you’re aware.”  
  
Ryouma swallows, fisting his hands in his shirt. “I’m sorry Sagara, sir- ma’am, but I...can’t read well.” He starts rummaging through his bag for his wallet. “I know _enough_ , but it’s slow going. It’ll probably be quicker if you just tell me the rules, and have your buddy Hatake over there fill out the forms for me. Ma’am.”  
  
The gray-brown wolf snorts again, louder this time, and Sagara shoots him a look. “Shut it, Hatake. Don’t think I won’t assign you to a pack. Staying in one form for four years isn’t good for anyone, and it wouldn’t hurt you to take a swim in the river. Though it might kill the fish.”

Ryouma blinks slowly, holding out his driver’s license for Sagara. She takes it, skims his information, and nods once before handing it back to him. “You’re over eighteen, so you could join a pack, if you wanted to.”  
  
Ryouma smiles wryly, trying to pull back some of his cocky facade. “Is that like a werewolf gang?”  
  
Sagara raises her eyebrows at him. “No. My department provides hundreds of local werewolves with housing and a stipend in exchange for exterminating supernatural threats to the local population. Usually, these packs are groups of werewolves around the same age who I believe could work well together. Many become like second families.”  
  
Ryouma’s heart aches. Housing. A stipend. Family… And all he’d have to do is kill some vampires, probably. 

On the other hand, he finally has something good going, moneywise.  It’s hard work, sure, but it’s his hard work, and someday soon he’ll finally be able to afford a car.  “I’ll...think about it. Runnin’ around in the woods with a bunch of furry weirdos seems like diving in with both feet without knowing what’s at the bottom, y’know?”

Sagara simply shrugs, seemingly unoffended.  “Suit yourself. We’ll be announcing pack assignments at the end of the month, a week before the full moon.  Unless you want to wait until September, you should decide quickly.” She walks over to her desk, pulls out a pen and a slip of paper, and writes something on it.  “If you have any further questions, here is where you’ll reach me.”

Ryouma reads the slip, and finds that the ten-digit phone number is written largely and clearly enough that it isn’t as much of a headache to focus his eyes as it usually is.  On the other side, written in large block letters, is the name SAGARA OKIKU.

“Thanks,” he says, feeling a little embarrassed, but mostly grateful.

* * *

Ryouma is still reeling over the massive paradigm shift he just had. It feels like the world should look different, but it doesn’t. Even as the sun sets over the horizon, casting the clouds into shades of pink and orange, it’s just the same as it ever was.  
  
The wolf walking slightly behind him is markedly less so. He still hasn’t gotten a personal name out of him, and Hatake threw Ryouma out of the cabin while he transformed and argued with Sagara, so he doesn’t even know what the man looks like.  
  
Ryouma has so many questions, but he can’t exactly talk to a wolf. And he can’t play on his phone, because it’s dead. The motley pair arrives at the door to his fourth floor studio walkup, and Ryouma has to resist giving the wolf a pat on the head, like he would a dog.  
  
“Thanks for helping me out back there. Uh, see you around?”  
  
Hatake flicks his ears, turns tail, and vanishes into the night.  
  
Once Ryouma can plug his phone in, it’s blowing up with missed calls from his boss at the diner. He winces, and then crumples when the final voicemail falls like a hammer.  
  
“If you think I’ll accept my employees skipping work and thinking they can get away with it, you’re wrong, and fired. Don’t come back.”

Ryouma buries his face in his hands.  He lets out a shuddering breath, then knots his fingers in his hair.  “Fuck. Okay.”

The one good thing about working at the diner had been the free meals during eight hour shifts.  With his income essentially cut in half, he’ll have to go back to eating no more than twice a day, at least until he finds another job.  Ryouma is already planning ways to cut back, places he can apply for a job that don’t ask too many questions, when he remembers he essentially got a job offer that morning.

He digs the slip of paper out of his pocket and dial’s Sagara’s number with shaking fingers.

The receiver on the other end barely rings once.  “Good evening, Tousaki. I’m surprised to hear from you so soon.”

Ryouma swallows, clutching the phone tighter in his hand. “Evening, ma’am.  I just have one question. When people are...assigned to their packs, can they keep their other jobs, if they have them?”

“I don’t see any reason why they couldn’t.  Plenty of weres maintain a healthy lifestyle outside of their packs.”

Ryouma hisses out a sigh and leans over the back of his chair, causing it to creak warningly.

“Was that all you needed from me?”

“Yeah, no, I...I’d like to be put on the roster, Sagara-sir.  If it’s not too late.”

“I think I can find a place for you.”  Ryouma doesn’t think he’s imagining the smile in Sagara’s voice.  “May the moonlight find you safely home.”

The receiver clicks, and Ryouma drops his phone, letting it dangle over his shoulder from the charging cable.  He presses his palms over his eyes and laughs hoarsely.


	2. Ryouma Breaks the Law

Tousaki Ryouma is a simple man with simple needs.  And today, his twentieth birthday, he deserves a goddamn day off.  It’s Monday, so the bar he works at is closed anyways, but still. Since he’s not actually legal to drink yet, and therefore getting paid under the table, he can’t celebrate his transition into adulthood with a pub crawl.  He can, however, do the next best thing.

Ryouma grabs his phone from his nightstand and dials a number from his contacts list, then nearly drops it on his face.  After the click of the receiver, he says, “Hey, Hakone, we still on for tonight?” 

“Why wouldn’t we be?” Hakone replies, sounding far more alert than Ryouma at this hour of the morning.  Knowing him, he probably went for a bike ride at six. “Everyone else’s spring breaks are sooner or later than mine, and I’ve been home for two days, languishing with nothing to do.”

“Alright, sweet.” Ryouma yawns.  “Come over whenever, just let me know so I can buzz you in.” 

“Are you sure you still want me to come?  It sounds like you’re fading on me already.”

Ryouma pushes his palm into his eye and rubs vigorously for a moment.  “Yeah, the last few days have really fucked me in the ass. I’ll tell you about it when you get here.”

“Well...I don’t have anywhere I need to be, should I pick you up after your shift at the diner?  You get out at five, still?”

“Uh, you don’t have to do that.  I’ve got a vacation day. Days. If you come now, you should bring me coffee, and return whatever gift you got me.”

“What if coffee is your gift?  Do I still have to return it?” Ryouma can hear the smirk in Hakone’s voice. “I’ll be over in thirty.” Hakone hangs up before Ryouma can respond.

Ryouma drops his phone back on the nightstand and detangles his legs from his sheets, ungracefully rolling out of bed.  His spine pops as he stretches into a yawn, then he scratches his chin.

Punctual as always, the buzzer rings to announce Hakone’s arrival while Ryouma is still contemplating his reflection in the showerhead.  The water hits him in the chest, turning his dragon tattoo kaleidoscopic.

“Ah, shit,” he says as he shuts off the water with one hand and grabs his towel with the other.  He has to steady himself against the sink so he doesn’t slip on the wet floor. The buzzer rings again.

“Alright, hold your fuckin’ horses, I’m coming!”  Ryouma towels off as quickly as humanly (werewolfly?) possible, slicks some gel through his hair, and throws on the first pair of shorts his hands touch.  He tugs on a shirt as he walks to the door and buzzes Hakone in.

A few moments later, there’s a knock on his door, and Ryouma opens it to see his friend toting a Venti Unicorn Frappucino.  And also looking very rained on.

“You’re a lifesaver, Hakone,” Ryouma says, taking the cup and a long draught from it.  His eyes close and he sighs happily.

Hakone raises his eyebrows, standing back up after taking off his shoes.  “One would think I saved you from something more serious than caffeine withdrawal.”

“Withdrawal _is_ serious.  And so’s the shit I’m in.”  Ryouma takes another sip as he cranks open the window over the two-person kitchen table.  The smell of damp worms wafts into the apartment. 

“Surely.  So, tell me, birthday boy, what kind of shit are you in?”  Hakone grabs two cans of shitty college beer out of the fridge and pulls out one of the chairs to plop down into.

Ryouma takes a seat in the other chair.  He takes one of the beers from Hakone and downs half of it gratefully, wiping the foam away with the back of his wrist.  Then, he takes a cigarette from the pack on the table and lights it, blowing a stream of smoke out the open window before answering. “Bastard at the diner fired me ‘cause I didn’t show up to work yesterday, but it’s probably not the end of the world because I might have another job.”

Hakone’s eyebrows come down, into his judgemental expression.  “Why didn’t you show up to work?”

“Uh,” Ryouma says, intelligently.  He can’t tell Hakone that he’s a werewolf, but he doesn’t want Hakone to think any less of him for making stupid decisions either.  He plays with the lighter as he thinks of a response, thumb rolling over the trigger. “I might’ve got concussed at a street fight, but it’s all good now.  I rested, and now I’m better.”

Ryouma shrinks a little under Hakone’s piercing gaze, even as Hakone drinks his own beer.

“Do the street fight and your new job have anything to do with each other?  Because I swear to like, all of the Pagan gods that if you’re dealing drugs, or getting involved with necromancy again-”

“No!  No, it’s nothing like that, Hakone.  I was just...really sick, and now I’m fine.  So it’s fine.” Ryouma takes a long drag on his cigarette, letting the smoke heat his throat, and blows it out through a raspberry. 

“I hope you realize that being this vague is only making me more curious.  Is this new job of yours mundane or supernatural?”

“Supernatural,” Ryouma answers slowly, “But maybe I’ll get in trouble if I tell you, so it’d be better if you stopped asking.”

The smirk on Hakone’s face concerns Ryouma.  “Why would you get in trouble for telling me you’re a werewolf?” 

“Because Sagara-” Ryouma cuts himself off there, and takes solace in his beer, this time. “I’m not.”

“Please, Ryouma, I could smell it on you the moment you opened the door.”

Ryouma lifts his collar to sniff his shirt, smelling cotton, laundry detergent, cigarette smoke, and a familiar scent he’s come to recognize as his own, but there’s also the faint smell of wet dog.  “Smell it on me...wait, are you a werewolf too?”

“Gold star for the bright lad.”  Hakone grins, and toasts with his beer.  “I actually asked Sagara to put my name on the pack roster three days ago.  Though, what with me being a college student, I’m not sure how they’ll handle that.”

Ryouma considers this, and slurps more coffee to kickstart his brain to functional.  “Maybe there’re others out by you? But - hey! We could get put in the same pack!”

* * *

On the morning of April 23rd, Ryouma wakes up feeling like he’s missing something.  After a few beats and a look at his alarm clock, he realizes that it’s the afternoon, and he’s supposed to be meeting his pack.

His _pack_.  Gods, if he’s already screwed this up...Ryouma scrambles into some clothes as he calls a cab.

The taxi - Ryouma winces as he thinks about the hit his wallet is taking - drops Ryouma off at the beginning of a long gravel driveway, about an hour away from his current apartment and in the middle of Konoha’s vast forest.  He checks the GPS on his phone to make sure this is the right address, and starts the arduous trek up the driveway. He didn’t bring cigarettes, but he brought his zippos, and he takes one out of his pocket to toy with.

“Fuck, how am I gonna get to work if I’m livin’ all the way out here?” Ryouma mutters to himself as a log cabin comes into view.  The house is big, by Ryouma’s standards, one story tall, and has a porch that wraps around. A bright orange garment hangs over the railing, swaying in the breeze.  On the porch, two men sit in Adirondack chairs, chatting. One of them has hair down to his shoulders, and the other is built like a brick shithouse.

As soon as Ryouma clears the tree line, the long-haired man lifts his nose and seems to catch Ryouma’s scent.  They both stand up, and Ryouma jogs the rest of the way, taking the porch steps two-at-a-time.

When he can look clearly at the burlier man’s face, his train of thought pulls the emergency brake.  That exact smirk, oh god, this is the man Ryouma let give him a _rimjob_.  “Raidou?!”

“Namiashi Raidou, pack leader, and I could’ve sworn I didn’t bite you,” Raidou clarifies, mouth quirking wry.

“No, you didn’t, it was this guy at a street fight-” Ryouma says, cutting himself off when he realizes that he’s not making a stellar second impression.  Especially since his first impression involved an incredible blowjob-

“Street fight?” The other man probes, jolting Ryouma out of his reverie.  His eyebrow starts a slow climb up his forehead.

Ryouma shrinks under the weight of his gaze.  “I know it was a stupid idea, people lost money ‘cause of me losing, anyways.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for, I suppose.”  The eyebrow comes back down, and he shrugs, holding out his hand. “Shiranui Genma, pack healer.”

“Tousaki Ryouma.”  Ryouma shakes Genma’s hand.  It’s surprisingly warm. “I guess I can be the eye candy.  Not much good at turning into a wolf, yet. Is it just us three?”

Raidou crosses his arms over his chest and raises his nose to the breeze.  “So far, though Katsuko shouldn’t be long.”

Ryouma just catches the scent of something wild and kind of like scorched paper before a creature that looks like a coyote, only much bigger, sprints out from the trees, blood on its muzzle.  He doesn’t have any time to react before he’s pinned to the porch, the tan animal’s tongue lolling in its mouth.

Katsuko’s body shakes with the force of her wagging tail and Ryouma shoves playfully at her face.

“I feel like this is starting to become a theme,” he says dryly.  She licks his face, Genma attempts to cover a snicker with his hand, and Raidou doesn’t bother hiding his amusement.

“Ueno,” Raidou says. “Good to see you’ve eaten.”

The coywolf steps off of Ryouma, licking her chops, and Raidou tosses the sparkly orange bathrobe on top of her.  In the fastest shift Ryouma has ever seen, the air almost crackling with energy, the coywolf is just a boyish woman with choppy hair.

“Nice to see you again, Mr. Underdog.” Katsuko grins, blood still on her face.

“You too,” Ryouma replies, getting up and dusting himself off.  “Did you know...y’know, that shit with Akiyama?”

Katsuko shrugs and taps her nose.  “I had a hunch, but there wasn’t really a good chance to corner him before the cops showed.  You’re not the first person he targeted.”

“Well, he won’t be biting anyone else.  You missed me getting saved by a knight in furry armor. He didn’t much seem like he wanted to be helping me, though.”

“Maybe he-” Katsuko cuts herself off, and she, Raidou, and Genma turn to look at the forest.

Ryouma copies them, straining his senses to try to detect what they did.  The smell of drying blood on Katsuko’s face is too overpowering, but he doesn’t miss the snap of twigs as a skinny, brownish wolf steps into the clearing.  It silently pads over and lowers itself down a distance away from the group, not stepping up onto the porch, and that’s when the smell finally hits Ryouma’s nostrils. 

“Now that Hatake’s here,” Raidou says, tossing sets of house keys to Katsuko, Ryouma, and Hatake, who catches them in his mouth, “We can get started.  Each of you should have a key for the front door, back door, and shed. I expect you all to be here at least two hours before moonrise on the night of the full moon every month, no exceptions. The next one is in a week, on April 30th.  We should be getting our first assignment shortly after.”

Raidou turns to lead the way inside the house, and Ryouma can’t help but gawk at all of the cozy-looking furniture filling the vast space. He whistles softly.

From behind him, Genma says, “Uh-uh, no wolves inside the house unless they’re clean.”

Ryouma gives Hatake an amused look, and the wolf curls his lip at him before turning his frosty gaze back on Genma.

“We can do this the easy way, or the hard way, but I didn’t spend a week cleaning this place up just so you could track mud everywhere.”

Hatake looks at Genma for a long moment before setting one defiant paw on the hardwood. Genma blinks, raising his eyebrow, and Hatake steps the rest of the way inside, then shakes out his fur.

In a blink-and-you’d-miss-it moment, Genma’s hand is fisted in Hatake’s ruff, quelling movement.  The wolf tries to turn and snap at him, but Genma quickly drags him across the floor and down the hall, staying one pace ahead, and slams the bathroom door shut behind them.  A few seconds later, Ryouma hears the tub faucet turn on, along with the sound of multiple bottles being knocked to the floor. 

“Y’know,” Ryouma says slowly. “He was a lot more impressive when he was fighting Akiyama, and not getting tackled into a bathtub.”

Katsuko snorts, pulls her robe tighter around herself, and goes to the kitchen sink to wash the blood off of her face.  “I was wondering where you two had met before.” She looks over her shoulder at Raidou, who is staring at the muddy floor in disbelief.  “Sagara really gave you pick of the litter, huh?” 

“I didn’t have much say.” Raidou shrugs, then grabs a dry mop from the hall closet and starts scrubbing up the mud.  “But this is a good group.” 

Ryouma scratches his nose. “Not to burst your bubble, but I haven’t even shifted five times yet, and Mr. Bathtime just tried to piss off the healer.”

“True, but Genma’s a damn good healer and Hatake’s a legend among weres.  Not to mention, Ueno’s stamina is off the charts and you created an entirely new branch of magic.  If I can’t make the four of you into a functional unit, I’ll eat my pants.” Raidou brandishes the mop to underscore his point. 

Ryouma dubiously concedes. He turns around at the click-clack of clawed feet on hardwood. Hatake stops in the center of the living room- Ryouma realizes his coat has actually been a silvery gray all this time- and gives them all a steely-cold glare.

Genma isn’t far behind, and he looks far worse for wear, mud caked in the creases of his clothes and water splashed up the front of him. His cheeks are colored slightly pink and he’s wringing out his hair with a towel. “New rule: if Hatake makes a mess, he has to clean it up himself.” 

As if to answer that, Hatake shakes himself out from nose to tail, spraying them all. He sits back on his haunches and licks his chops. Ryouma would say he looks pleased.

Raidou closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “Alright, then. Any questions?”

Katsuko raises her hand, but doesn’t wait to be called on. “How do we know that’s Kakashi, and not just a regular wolf?”

Kakashi (Ryouma finally has a first name now, thank the gods) cocks his head at Katsuko, then gets up, and up, in the most seamless transformation Ryouma has ever-

“Oh for fuck's sake,” Genma says under his breath, balls up the damp towel, and lobs it at Kakashi’s back.

Ryouma watches the towel fall, and finds himself locking eyes with Kakashi’s dick. He politely looks away. “Well, then.”

“I’m real.” Kakashi says, in an oddly stilted way, as if he isn’t used to speaking.

Genma shoves the towel into Kakashi’s hand. “Put this on. Please.”

“Oh, this is better than TV,” Katsuko cackles.

Kakashi’s upper lip curls, realizing Katsuko was probably just trying to get him to shift. He gives the towel in his hand a weighing look.

“None of us want to see your junk, Hatake,” Raidou says, pinching his brow. “Just put the damn towel on.”

“If you don’t wanna wear it, you could shift back,” Ryouma adds helpfully.

“I can’t. Not enough food.” Kakashi frowns, still not putting the towel on.

“Oh my god,” Katsuko says, awestruck. “Hatake Kakashi doesn’t understand how clothes work.”

“Don’t need. I need food.”

Genma throws his hands up in the air and takes the towel back from Kakashi, only to wrap it around Kakashi’s hips.

“Do you even _own_ clothes?” Ryouma asks, fascinated.

“No. Do you?”

Raidou claps his hands together, cutting off Ryouma’s rebuttal at its knees. “Okay! Doesn’t anyone have any _important_ questions?”

“I think that was a very important question, Raidou,” Katsuko says seriously.

“Yeah, I’ve got one,” Ryouma says. “What the hell are we actually getting paid to do?”

“We,” Raidou’s mouth curves, and an anticipatory chill rolls down Ryouma’s spine. It’s not a benevolent grin. “Are getting paid to kill monsters.”


	3. Ryouma Moons the Gang

Heart pounding in his throat, Ryouma runs through the forest.  The deeper he goes, the more the trees start to look the same, but he can’t stop.  If he stops, it will get him. His paws strike hardened soil and his own blood roars in his ears.  When he risks a look over his shoulder, he trips over a snarl of tree roots. A heavy weight comes down on him. White teeth snap around Ryouma’s neck.

Ryouma jolts upright, panting, in his new bed and new room. “Fuck,” he says under his breath, falling back onto his sweaty pillow. The urge to transform claws at him and he waits for it and his blood pressure to climb back down. He gets out of bed to toss on a pair of sweatpants, stumble into the bathroom, and splash water on his face.

On the way back to his room, moonlight painting gray hair silver catches his eye.  He adjusts the waistband of his sweatpants and walks around to the front of the couch.

At first, Ryouma thinks Kakashi doesn’t notice him, as his eyes, one gray and one clouded, are locked on the moon. It’s just half a day away from being full as it sinks behind the trees.  Then Kakashi speaks.

“You need sleep.”

“And you don’t?”  Ryouma shoots back, taking a seat on the side of the couch not taken up by surly, half-feral teenager.

“Not tonight.  It hurts.” Kakashi is burrowed in the soft blanket that he seems to have claimed as his own, his nose and mouth covered.

“‘Cause you’re not transformed?  Is it the moon?” Ryouma frowns. He can probably show a little vulnerability, now.  It’s the middle of the night, and Kakashi already admitted to being in pain. “My nightmares are getting worse.”

Kakashi shakes his head, then tilts it to the side, considering. “The moon makes things worse.  This form feels wrong.”

“Why haven’t you shifted back this whole week, then?” Ryouma tries to catch Kakashi’s good eye, but his gaze hasn’t left the lightening sky.

“I Saw the alpha yelling at me.”

Ryouma resists the urge to make a joke about Raidou and dominance to focus on a more pertinent train of thought. Clairvoyance is not a particularly rare branch of magic, but it’s fickle and only comes to those who have an aptitude for it. Ryouma certainly didn’t, when he was coping with the death of his parents.

“Is that why you saved me? Because you could See it?”

Kakashi is silent for a stretch again, as if the words take effort to form. “No. I smelled him on my territory.”

“Harsh punishment.  D’you kill everyone who wanders in?”

“You’re alive.”  Kakashi tips his head to get a better look at Ryouma.

Ryouma takes the opportunity to get a better look at him, in turn.  Or, the slice of his face that’s visible between the blanket and silver fall of hair.  His good eye is a light gray, which is weird enough on its own, but nothing compared to the strangeness of his blinded one.  The pupil is a cloudy blue, with a white, scarred line down the center, and the cloud coalesces into multiple points around the edges, almost like a star.

When Kakashi’s blind (but probably not Blind) left eye makes Ryouma feel properly x-rayed, Kakashi stands, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape.  He strides purposefully to the fridge and pokes around inside of it.

Ryouma joins Kakashi at the kitchen counter, where the raw steak Kakashi found sits, still in its cellophane.  Kakashi licks his lips and starts to peel the package open.

“Dude, you can’t just eat it raw.”  Ryouma bats Kakashi’s hand away and snatches the steak to put it back in the fridge, where four others just like it are sitting.  “Humans have to cook their food.”

“That’s stupid.” Kakashi peers over Ryouma’s shoulder.

“Did you...seriously not know that?” Ryouma turns around as he shuts the door of the fridge, Kakashi still uncomfortably close.  Ryouma’s gaze is drawn downwards, almost subconsciously, and he nearly rejoices when he sees that Kakashi is, in fact, wearing boxers.  “Good to see you’re finally - wait. Are those mine? What the hell!”

Kakashi blinks at him for long enough that Ryouma thinks he’s not going to answer. “Your clothes fit me.  There’s a breeze.”

Ryouma throws his hands up in the air, but the sound of padded slippers distracts him before he can begin putting together a meaningful response.

“Up already, boys?” Katsuko rubs her eyes, then grins at the two of them. “Your bickering was louder than the sparrows.”

“I didn’t think we were bein’ that loud…” Ryouma rubs the back of his neck sheepishly.

Katsuko sniffs, then yawns, hip-checking them aside so she can get at the coffee. “Wolf senses, remember?  Next time you wanna have bonding time, don’t let me stop you. Coffee?”

“Please,” Ryouma says.  The adrenaline from his nightmare abated, Ryouma is now feeling the full force of getting up at the asscrack of dawn, before the sun has thought to even grace the poor, destitute faces of the truly tired.

Kakashi, seemingly done with invading Ryouma’s personal space, decides to invade Katsuko’s instead.  He leans around her shoulder to take a whiff of the coffee grounds, then immediately pushes himself away, coughing and hacking.

“I take it you don’t much like coffee?” Ryouma smirks, getting the French vanilla creamer out of the fridge.

Kakashi wrinkles his nose, the front door opens, and Genma and Raidou step inside.  They’re both sweat-drenched from a morning run, even Ryouma’s untrained nose could pick that up, but only Raidou opted to take off his shirt, the gray fabric trailing from his back pocket.  Ryouma’s mouth dries, and he abruptly busies himself with preparing his own coffee mug. Katsuko’s smug grin hangs over him like an omen.

“You owe me five, Raidou,” Genma says.  “They were all up before we got back.”

“I can cook breakfast, if y’want,” Ryouma says hastily. He ducks under the counter to begin a search for cooking equipment, definitely not to hide the tips of his ears turning pink. “Unless you both ate already…?”

Raidou gives Ryouma an amused look, then shrugs.  “Sure, we could do with a second breakfast. Everyone here should be loading up on calories before the moon, anyways.”

“That’s why I was planning to cook a steak dinner for everyone,” Genma says, nodding and tightening his ponytail. “But if you want to handle brunch, be my guest. Raidou and I’ll be showering.”

“Together?” Katsuko muses, making Ryouma hit his head on the cabinet he was digging in for pots and pans.

Ryouma stands up again, frying pan achieved, and sees a blush rising on Genma’s cheeks that has nothing to do with the exercise or the Spring morning’s damp chill.  Well, of  _ course _ he’d be attracted to Raidou, what with his strong, capable arms… Ryouma shuts out that line of thought and ventures back into the fridge for eggs, milk, and omelet ingredients.

When Ryouma emerges from his fridge quest, Genma and Raidou have vanished down the hall to shower (a selfish part of his brain hopes that they take turns), and Kakashi is standing in his personal space again.

“Fuck!” Ryouma says, fumbling the food onto the counter.  “Stop doin’ that! You almost made me drop the eggs.”

“Aren’t you going to fight the healer to mate with the alpha?” Kakashi’s brows knit, like this is a perfectly innocent question.

Katsuko starts choking on her coffee, and the first egg cracks in Ryouma’s hand over the sink.

“W-what?” Ryouma scrubs the egg off of his hand and tries again. “I already had my chance with him.  No obligations, no attachment. He was was gone before I even woke up. And wasn’t that whole alpha-wolf study debunked anyways?”

“Not for artificially formed packs in captivity,” Katsuko says, sipping her coffee.

Kakashi wrinkles his nose.  “If you’re not going to mate with him, you should stop smelling like you want to.”

Ryouma automatically lifts his arm to sniff his armpit, which has the side effect of dripping beaten egg onto the floor from the whisk.  He can’t detect anything other than himself, only stronger and deeper, somehow, so he goes back to whipping the entire carton of eggs into a slurry.

“I can’t really control that, dude.  And...Raidou’s hot, okay? Let a man dream.”  Ryouma adds milk, salt, and pepper to the egg mixture.  “What d’you all like in your omelets?”

Katsuko looks between the mixing bowl and the ingredients.  “You were planning on making more than one? I could probably eat all of that by myself.  And as for the ingredients, all. All of the ingredients.”

“You’ll have to be okay with getting a slightly bigger omelet than everyone else, ‘cause we’re already out of eggs.”  Ryouma starts chopping peppers for Katsuko’s omelet and looks pointedly at Kakashi.

“Raw meat,” Kakashi says, muffled from where the blanket is pulled up over his face again.  “Did you really mate with the al- Raidou, already?”

“We  _ just _ had a conversation about humans not being able to eat raw meat, and now that it’s ‘Ryouma gossip hour’ you’re talkative?”

“I dunno Mr. Underdog, I’m curious, too.”  Katsuko’s grin as she refills her coffee mug is more feline than canine.  “Were you really under a dog?”

“Fuck both of you, honestly.  Do you want me to spit in your food?”

“You wouldn’t,” Katsuko says sweetly.  “And even if you did I’d eat it anyway.”

“I’ve eaten worse.” Kakashi’s hand snakes out from the blanket and he steals a diced pepper piece.

Ryouma rolls his eyes, then dumps some of the chopped vegetables, leftover bacon, cheese, and a portion of the eggs into the pan.  Katsuko and Kakashi, mercifully, start jibing each other while Ryouma cooks the rest of everyone’s omelets. He sets them on the kitchen table in the spots that have already become usual - Raidou at the head of the table with Genma on his right and Katsuko on his left, Ryouma next to Katsuko and Kakashi next to Genma.  Despite the fact that Ryouma was assigned to this pack, he can’t quite help but feel that he’s set aside from the other members. Too new, too naïve, too stupid. Who the hell follows someone into the woods after a street fight?

As Ryouma plates the last omelet, his own, a firm hand on his shoulder jolts him out of his reverie.

“Jesus,” he says under his breath.  “Is everyone here on a mission to get me to shit my pants?”

Katsuko snickers.

Raidou smiles crookedly up at Ryouma.  “I’m not, but the jury’s still out on those two.  I just wanted to say thanks for making brunch, so, thanks.  You’re a pretty good cook.”

The back of Ryouma’s neck heats and he ducks his head.  “Used to work in a diner. And it’s just eggs, anyhow. Any idiot can cook eggs.”

“You’d be surprised,” Raidou chuckles, then pats Ryouma’s shoulder and drops his arm. “Eat up, it’s easier to shift when your body’s had the time to digest all the calories.”

Ryouma takes his seat at the table and eats quickly, not really tasting the food.  Genma sits with him, reading the morning paper while Katsuko and Kakashi play tug-of-war over Kakashi’s blanket and Raidou does the dishes.

* * *

After dinner, but before the sky has gone completely dark, Raidou ushers everyone out to the wide open backyard and the huge shed nestled amongst the treeline.  The shed has a thick rope tied to the door, for opening with wolf jaws, probably.

“We’re really transforming in a shed?”  Ryouma asks.

“You haven’t been inside, yet. I was able to make the furnishings a little more...cozy,” Genma replies, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door.

Ryouma’s mouth falls open as he sees all of the bean bags and blankets lining the shed from wall to wall, plus a set of drawers for emergency clothes and a first aid kit.  “Wow, you were thorough.”

“Transformation doesn’t have to be awful.  Why make it harder for yourself than it already is?”  Genma’s toothpick quirks in his mouth.

“Speaking of transformation,” Raidou says, shutting the door behind himself.  “Moonrise is at 8:01, and I want everyone shifted before then.”

“Right,” Ryouma says slowly. “So are we just, y’know, stripping?”

“If you want to,”  Genma replies, turning to face the wall as he slips his shirt over his head. There’s a jagged, deep set of scars that cut across his right shoulder, but they don’t look new.  Ryouma averts his eyes. “You’ll shred your clothes if you don’t, though. We won’t watch if it makes you uncomfortable.”

Ryouma snorts and follow suit, dropping shirt and pants unceremoniously to the floor.  “Well if I’d known being a werewolf involved nudity, I would’ve been a lot more excited about it.”  He turns around before shucking his boxers in an attempt at modesty and to avoid the watchful gazes of both Katsuko (smug) and Kakashi (curious).

“Nice body art.” Katsuko sounds appreciative, rather than chiding. “And nice...everything else.”

Ryouma decides having a conversation with his back turned is more awkward than giving everyone a full frontal, so he carefully sits down, draping his discarded shirt across his lap.  “Thanks.”

“Doesn’t that metal bit hurt?” Kakashi finally manages to shove his -  _ Ryouma’s _ \- boxers off and lands on the last unoccupied bean bag without even a token attempt at concealment.

Ryouma raises his eyebrows at Kakashi. “It did when I first got it, but not anymore.  Unless you tug on it real hard, so don’t do that.”

Raidou clears his throat, and when Ryouma looks over at him he wishes for a cold shower for the second time today.  If only he knew where the boundary was - but like hell if he’s fucking someone while three other people-

“Fifteen minutes, give or take.” Raidou hooks his thumb at the digital clock on the wall. “You all better hurry up.”

Kakashi blinks slowly at Raidou, his form blurring and limbs extending until a silver-gray wolf is lying there.  He yawns, revealing his sharp teeth. Then Katsuko goes, and Ryouma can’t recognize a transitional form. She’s just human one moment, coywolf the next.

Ryouma tries to get comfortable even though he feels everyone’s eyes on him.  He thinks about the last time he shifted, with Hakone’s help, and the advice Hakone gave.

_ Take a deep breath, and imagine you’re running through the forest.  Run faster, as fast as you can go. Smell the trees, the life pulsing around you.  Congratulations, you’re a wolf. _

Though Ryouma is unsure of how long the transformation takes, he opens his eyes to tones of blue and brown, as well as simpler thoughts.  Here is his pack! He should say hello.

Ryouma trots over to Raidou, tail wagging, and Raidou drops his big, heavy hand onto Ryouma’s head for pettings.

“Good job.” Raidou smiles.  “I knew you could do it.”

Ryouma’s tail thumps the floor and he looks over at the other wolves, tongue lolling.  Katsuko smiles back at him, but Kakashi huffs unhappily. That won’t do at all. Ryouma bounds over and encourages Kakashi to come play with him, chin to the ground and tail in the air.

Kakashi growls at him, low and short. _ “We’re wolves, not dogs.” _

Katsuko shoves Kakashi’s head with her paw and nips at Ryouma’s ear.  He pounces, trying to tackle her, but she jumps aside.

Raidou steps between them, a burly wolf now, and bigger than even Ryouma.  He looks towards the door, which Genma - a slight creature, probably a purebred coyote, smaller than all of them but Katsuko - is nudging open.  Ryouma inhales deeply, smelling worms and wood and the grass wet from recent rain, and bounds outside.

This time, Kakashi tackles Ryouma, bringing up more vibrant grass smell, and Ryouma paddles playfully at Kakashi’s stomach with his hind paws. Finally!  Kakashi is playing along! Ryouma nips at his neck, when Katsuko comes barreling into Kakashi, sending them all tumbling.

They tussle for a few minutes, but then Ryouma’s ears prick, catching the sound of something rustling in the bushes before he’s consciously aware of it.  He steps away from Kakashi and Katsuko to seek the scent.

Genma sits on his haunches, nose to the air, and Raidou surveys his pack.  The huge wolf looks right at Ryouma, then growls, a sound so low it feels like it’s vibrating Ryouma’s bones.

_ “Who wants dessert?” _

* * *

Ryouma stretches and shakes himself out.  He settles down onto one of the bean bags in the shed, not caring which, and focuses on slowing his heart rate.  Though bringing down one deer isn’t that impressive for five wolves, he still feels the solid contentment of a successful hunt.  Shifting back into human form is easier for Ryouma, so within a few moments, he can feel the denim fabric pressing into his cheek.

A quick glance around the room shows that everyone else has shifted back, as well, even Kakashi.  Raidou and Genma already have most of their clothes on, Katsuko is in her garish orange bathrobe, and Kakashi...forgoes the borrowed boxers in favor of the blanket.

Ryouma pulls his clothes back on.  As he stumbles through the shed door, he can’t quite stifle a yawn.  “If anyone needs me, ‘m gonna be asleep on the closest flat surface.”

“I’ll be on top of him,” Katsuko says, catching up with Ryouma at the house and leaning on him for support.  He pats her hair.

When Ryouma pulls open the door, he can hear the tinny strumming of a guitar from the kitchen counter.  “‘S yours, Rai,” he calls over his shoulder, then promptly faceplants on the couch.

“Got it,” Raidou says.  Ryouma can only assume he does, because the ringtone stops, and low voices migrate away from the kitchen.

Suddenly, two weights settle on top of Ryouma.  He peeks one eye open to see Katsuko on his back, and Kakashi on his legs.

“Am I really more comfortable than a bed?”

“You’re closer,” Katsuko admits.

“You’re in my spot,” Kakashi deadpans.

“If I have to amputate a limb because of poor circulation, I’m billing you.”  Ryouma buries his face in his arms and dozes.

Ryouma wakes up to a warm hand on his shoulder, and warmer brown eyes.

“You’re going to want to hear this,” Genma says. “Raidou just got off the phone with Sagara.”

Ryouma pushes himself up to a sitting position and rubs his eyes.  What the hell could Sagara be calling about this early in the morning after a full moon? Kakashi and Katsuko look equally confused and annoyed to be woken up.

“Spill the beans, Rai,” Katsuko grumbles.

Raidou crosses his arms over his chest and regards them all with an assessing look.  “Right. Most packs don’t get an assignment this early on, but this is something we just can’t ignore.  There’s been a string of disappearances in a couple of nearby towns, which in and of itself isn’t weird.  Sagara was going to let the non-magic police handle it, but none of the crime scenes showed signs of struggle.  Not a thing was out of place. I think we’re dealing with something more sinister, here. Any guesses?”

Kakashi is staring out the window again, as if the forest has all the answers.  “Fae.”

“Demons!” Katsuko pipes up, looking a lot more awake, now.

“Is there a difference?” Genma murmurs.

Raidou turns his gaze on Ryouma. “What do you think?”

Ryouma jerks back, bewildered.  “Me? I dunno. I doubt it’s reanimated corpses or zombies, though, those leave more of a mess.  Could just be a really good non-magic serial killer.”

“Well,” Raidou says, grinning.  Ryouma doesn’t think it’s his imagination making Raidou’s teeth look sharper.  “We’ll find out soon enough. Get plenty of rest, tonight we head out for Hayama.  Our first Hunt is on.”


End file.
